


I have never longed for something which was not once mine

by Missy_dee811



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 08, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Angelic Grace Bonds (Supernatural), Angelic Grace as a Cure (Supernatural), Angelic Possession (Supernatural), Blood and Torture, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Feelings Realization, Flashbacks, Hospitals, M/M, Post-Purgatory (Supernatural), Sharing of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811
Summary: After a car accident leaves Dean in a coma, full of grief, Castiel has to find a way to bring him back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts).



> Happy (belated) birthday, Kiyaar. 
> 
> The title is from by Kara Jackson's poem, [fleeing](https://poets.org/poem/fleeing).

“I have been many things to many beings,” said Castiel.

He circled around the King of Hell, who was presently torturing a lesser demon. The demon was writhing in pain and bleeding from deep gashes on his sternum. 

Castiel looked away. He was a soldier. He had seen it all before, and yet, this gave him pause. He had led battles; he had slaughtered his own kind. He had witnessed many demons suffer at the hands of angels, demons, and humans alike. And yet, this lowly demon choking back tears gnawed at something within him.

Perhaps, he had spent too much time on earth. He had spent too much time in this body. He had spent too much time with the Winchesters.

That was the source of all his problems, he knew. If he had just been an obedient angel, all of this could’ve been avoided. If he had just toed the line, they wouldn’t be in this conundrum.

Instead, here he was, pleading with the King of Hell.

“Oh Cassie, you’ve died on this very floor. I know making a deal with you is akin to making a deal with the Devil. You angels are all the same: self-serving. And you have the audacity to say we’re untrustworthy.”

He pointed the knife at the demon before him. Crowley, having grown bored, slit the demon’s wrists and watched the exsanguination. There was a metal bowl on the floor collecting the blood. It would be stored and used later. They were always in need of fresh demon blood.

“At least we keep our end of the deals we make,” said Crowley.

Once again, Castiel looked away.

“If you fuck with me, you’ll be next. Surely, you know there are consequences to your actions. You can’t keep running around, doing whatever you please. Surely, you get that now?”

He turned to face Castiel, who was still looking away.

“What a year of fighting monsters and you’ve gone soft? Or is there another reason you can’t stand to watch?”

“Crowley, it’s Dean,” said Castiel.

He was at his wit’s end.

“It’s always Dean,” said Crowley.

He sighed, put down the knife he had been using, and wiped the blood from his hands using a dirty rag.

They were standing in a park, several yards from the entrance of the hospital. Night had fallen. The sidewalk was illuminated by a dim streetlight. Castiel sat on the bench a few feet away. Crowley sat next to him but kept his distance.

Castiel hid his head in his hands. He took a steadying breath.

“He’s in a coma,” he said, at long last.

“What the hell happened?”

“Car accident.”

“Who was driving?”

“He was. He was alone. The car was… I’m sure he’ll — he’ll put her back together. He’s the one I’m worried about,” said Castiel.

“You’re an Angel. Why don’t you just go in there and heal him?”

“You don’t think I tried that? You don’t — you don’t seriously think I would just leave him in that state?”

Crowley stood. He started pacing back and forth.

“And Moose, what did he say?”

“Sam called me as soon as he found out. He was… He was unwell on the phone,” said Castiel.

He rubbed his palms on the front of his trench coat.

“Alright, alright. What’s the plan?”

“I — If I possess him, I can save him,” said Castiel.

The words cut through. Crowley stood in place, transfixed, and turned to stare at him.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, of course. Sam doesn’t like the idea any more than you do, but…”

“He’s going to hate you, Cassie.”

“I know, but that doesn’t matter!”

“The hell it matters! You’re not going to spend the rest of existence pining after a man that won’t have you because you possessed him! Does he… Does he even know you’re back?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Great, just fucking great. Your boyfriend thinks you’re still trapped in Purgatory, and here you are, plotting to possess the poor, comatose son of a bitch!”

“Crowley,” said Castiel.

His voice broke. Crowley, now concerned, stopped pacing entirely, and stared at the angel, waiting for him to finish.

“This is all my fault.”

“And pray tell, why is that?”

“I’m the reason he crashed,” said Castiel.

He was barely holding it together. Crowley took pity on him and sat next to him.

“Don’t tell me you appeared before him on the side of the road?”

“No, no. I — I wasn’t going to appear before him at all. I was just… Doesn’t matter, but he reached out to me. I could… Prayers don’t have to be formal. I can sense… I sensed he needed me. He missed me, has been missing me this whole time. I just thought… I’ve done it so many times before; how was I to know this time it would lead to catastrophe?”

“Everything we do leads to catastrophe,” said Crowley, deadpan.

“I appeared next to him and he swerved. I — I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t fly us away, I couldn’t stop the collision from happening,” said Castiel.

“Did you leave then? Why did Sam call you?”

“I was injured, but my injuries would heal, so I tried to heal him and found that I couldn’t. I couldn’t,” he said.

Crowley watched him, his concern deepening.

“I haven’t been the same. Not since coming back. I’m not as strong, and I don’t know why. I was sitting there, blood dripping from my temples, watching the blood drip down his. I called emergency services, gave them our location, and told the operator what had happened. She assured me help would come.

“I had a choice to make. I tried to heal him again, I was just trying to stop the blood. I couldn’t even do that. I spent all that time trying to heal him. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. Maybe I should have brought him to the hospital myself. I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me at the time, but it just didn’t.

“I was too — I was overcome with emotion,” said Castiel.

_Oh, how far the mighty have fallen._

“By the time the paramedics arrived, he had lost too much blood. I watched them put him on a stretcher. I had never been this powerless before,” he said.

“A paramedic came up to me and asked me if he had kin or next of kin. I gave her Sam’s number without hesitation. I’m ashamed to admit, but I didn’t have the courage to speak to him, and she wouldn’t have expected me to do so.”

“She gave you an out,” said Crowley.

Castiel nodded.

“Now if you weren’t strong enough to heal him, why do you think you’ll be strong enough to possess him and heal him by way of possession?”

“Because I know his soul, more intimately than I know any other thing on this earth. I remade him once, I am certain I could do it again.”

“Here we go again. Haven’t you learned anything? Didn’t your stint in Purgatory teach you a thing? What makes you think you’re uniquely suited for this task when you couldn’t even stop the bleeding?”

“You may not, but I have faith.”

Crowley eyed him quizzically.

“You couldn’t begin to understand the depth of our bond.”

“I’m not questioning your bond; I’m questioning your ability. Need I remind you that you came to me for help, meaning you don’t think you can do this yourself, and thus, you need my assistance.”

Sam was sitting in the corner skimming the document on his phone. They’d been discussing their plan since the nurse left half an hour ago. It was getting late and they would soon be asked to leave.

“He’s going to hate all of us,” said Sam.

“We know,” said Crowley.

“Well, he already hated you,” said Sam.

“Moose, shut it.”

Sam ignored him.

“Cas, are you sure? Absolutely sure this will work?”

Castiel and Crowley both stared at each other before turning to face Sam.

“No,” said Crowley at the same time Castiel said, “Yes.”

They both turned to face each other again.

“Can’t believe I’m discussing feelings, of all things, but he will resent this,” said Crowley.

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” said Sam.

“No, we can deal with damned. We’re all damned. Say it works. You possess him and cure him of his maladies. What next? Without your grace, your vessel would begin to decay. We have no way of knowing how long it would take for an angel to heal a human with these many injuries. He has a concussion, broken ribs, a broken arm, and a ruptured spleen. You’ll have to remove the spleen.”

Castiel nodded.

“If he doesn’t — if he doesn’t wake up,” said Sam.

“If he doesn’t wake up, you can bargain with the reaper who will come to collect him,” said Crowley. “Unless, of course, that reaper is Death himself. Though, knowing his sense of humor, he’d give you an audience anyway.”

It was time. They could keep discussing the pros and cons for hours. This was an invasion of privacy, he knew. It was different now. There was no hellfire, just the sound of machines beeping and buzzing. He wasn’t on a mission. This wasn’t an order from up above. This was selfish. The pinnacle of selfishness. He needed Dean, alive and well. He needed him. And he couldn’t let go.

He could live without the late-night drives. He could live without the stolen conversations on deserted highways and near-empty diners. He could live without the closeness. He could live without the smiles. He couldn’t live knowing he hadn’t done all he could. He couldn’t.

The possession was easy.

Walking into that lake had been harder. He hadn’t known then what was to come, but he’s possessed a human before. This part isn’t new. Some humans disappear. They hide in a part of their mind they make their own. Jimmy had been like that. Other humans formed a bond with the angel taking charge. For them, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship; purely transactional. The angel protects the vessel and in turn, the human plays host.

This, this was unlike that.

This was like coming home.

“Hello, Dean,” said Castiel.

The light faded around them and they were sitting on a dock. Dean was fishing. He had his hooks and bait neatly organized beside him.

“You’re here,” he said.

“I am.”

“Does that mean I’m —”

“No, you’re not dead. This isn’t heaven. I’m here to… I’m here to heal you. Do you remember? Do you remember why you’re here?”

“You’re here.”

Castiel nodded.

“With me?”

Castiel nodded again.

“I — I noticed. When you arrived, I noticed. Things, things changed. They’re softer now,” said Dean.

Castiel didn’t comment. He had only seen a flash of light before their surroundings took shape. This reminded him of that dream. It seemed Dean enjoyed fishing. This pleased him. He rarely did take pleasure in small things like this. Sure, there was the booze and the burgers. And before him, there had been more women. But he rarely allowed himself to enjoy life’s little treasures.

As if on cue, Dean said, “I’ve been catching more fish.”

“We can’t stay here,” said Castiel. “We have to get back.”

“I know, but… Do we have to rush? We’re always in a rush.”

Castiel sat beside him. 

“Take off your coat, angel.”

He did as he was told. Dean dropped the fishing rod besides him and moved closer. Castiel fell back on his forearms. Dean moved ever closer. He caressed his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Castiel pulled Dean into his lap and deepened the kiss. Then, there was a burst of light.

Angels and demons have no soul, but all beings have an essence. However, Castiel wasn’t an angel, not like the angels in heaven. When he had been remade — by God, after they stopped the apocalypse — he had been remade in this form. He no longer looked at his reflection and saw his vessel. When he looked at his reflection, he saw himself.

When God remade him, He remade him in His image. The humans were made in God’s image — not the angels and not the demons.

And so, when their lips met, inside the same body, with the host open and welcoming, they bonded.

Possession implied ownership, but there was nothing here that wasn’t already his.

_I have never longed for something which was not once mine._

When Dean awoke, Castiel was in his body. He had taken Sam’s seat in the far corner. Crowley had left, not wishing to be around for another emotional conversation. Sam had left to get something to eat. Though, in all actuality, he wasn’t hungry. He had left to give them some privacy. He knew a thing or two about possession, and knew it was a lot to process.

Castiel stayed because there was nowhere else for him to be.

“Hello, Dean,” said Castiel when he heard his breathing change.

“You’re awake.”

“I’m — Yeah, I’m awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Whole, and alive. Thank you,” he said, lowering his voice.

Castiel looked up and met his gaze.

“I — I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m sorry for lying. For lying to you when we were in Purgatory. I should’ve told you I didn’t intend on leaving with you. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. It was because I needed to stay. I’m sure you understand why I needed to stay. I’m sure you understand why I felt I needed to be there, why I felt I needed to atone. Please tell me you understand,” he said.

Dean reached for his hand but stopped himself as Castiel reached for his.

“Now? Now, I understand everything. I think you do too. I forgive you for wanting to spare me, to spare me the pain of losing you forever, even though it meant losing you for a time.”

He looked down at their clasped hands.

“Where does this leave us?”

“At the beginning. We’re right back where we started: I saved you and you freed me.”

Dean pulled away and threw his head back. He kept thinking of those last few nights in Purgatory. He thought of the dream — the dock, the fish in the lake, and the water lapping against the shore. He looked over at Castiel.

“Why’d you mark me? Why’d you leave a handprint?”

“I raised you from perdition, and I wanted you to remember.”

“I remember, all of it,” said Dean, alluding to the passionate kiss they had shared.

Sam returned to find Dean asleep and Castiel looking out the window.

“So, what happened?”

“He will still need to have his spleen removed.”

“And?”

“And he will have to recover from that surgery,” said Castiel.

He was still staring out the window.

“That’s — that’s good. How’s he feeling…about the possession?”

“Oh. He’s understanding. It clarified some things.”

“That’s all? You were gone for hours. How long where you… Where’d you even go?”

“Ah, that’s difficult to explain. I know, you’ve been possessed before, but I’m unsure you’ve ever bonded…”

“You bonded?”

“Yes, we bonded.”

“Does this mean…?”

“I will always be able to find Dean. This won’t ever happen again,” he said.

He turned and took his seat beside the hospital bed.

“You should get some rest. I will watch over him.”

Sam knew he was being dismissed but he was tired, and he wasn’t in the mode to argue with the angel.

When Dean woke up next, Castiel was right beside him.

“Am I yours?”

“Of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Castiel, Castiel… What are we going to do with you?”

Castiel stared. Seconds before he had been sitting beside Dean in a hospital room. They had been holding hands. It was… a pleasant thought.

And now he was sitting in an office. The walls were white and bare; too stark. The fluorescent lights overheard added to the ambience. Though it wasn’t a hospital, there was a sterile, surgical quality to the room that made him uneasy.

“Who are you,” he asked.

“My name is Naomi,” said the woman sitting behind the desk.

She was wearing a dark suit and a white blouse tucked into her trousers. The simple black belt on her hips her only accessory. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. Castiel had never met her before, but she seemed to know him. It made him uncomfortable.

There was a growing unease gnawing at him. How long have I been gone?

“Do I know you?”

“Castiel, I’ll be asking the questions,” she said, ignoring his question and pointed look.

She gestured for him to sit and took notes. He hadn’t noticed the chair before which he was standing, but he took the seat anyway.

It was then he noticed the larger room. The walls were still white but there was glass dividing this room and the next, which was unoccupied and dark. Naomi was seated at a large desk. The mahogany gave life to an otherwise lifeless room. Before her were neat files and a slip of a paper, on which she had started taking notes.

She was recording this conversation.

He wiped his hands on his trousers. They were sweaty, and he didn’t sweat. The unease that had been growing was reaching a breaking point.

“What are you doing,” asked Naomi.

Castiel stared at her blankly.

“Why did you save him?”

“I – I couldn’t – I couldn’t bear,” he said before she cut him off.

“Correct, you couldn’t because you shouldn’t. And yet, you did. You continue to do whatever it is you want to do. And I need you to understand that is not your purpose.”

“What is my purpose?”

“Your purpose is to do what you’re told! Obey!

You’re an Angel, Castiel. It’s about time you started acting like one. You’re needed here, in Heaven, not gallivanting across the American continent with the Winchesters.”

She said the name with as much disdain as she could muster. Castiel sat in stony silence. He wished he were back at the hospital. Dean was still recovering. He should be with him. He wanted to be with him.

He looked down at his hands. She was right, of course. He was an Angel. His duty was to Heaven. And though he saw himself as the Winchesters’ guardian, he needed to be here.

He didn’t want to be here, though. He didn’t want to be in Heaven. And he couldn’t bear to part with Dean. He couldn’t bear to be without him. This wasn’t her choice to make. It wasn’t anyone’s choice but his.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said standing up.

“Oh?”

“If you summoned me here, then you must know. He’s my charge. We’re bonded, and I’m not going to leave him,” said Castiel. He was resolute.

“Castiel, don’t you understand? It’s not up to you anymore. You aren’t God anymore. You never were. You were toying with godhood, with kingship. You were never very adept. I’m here to remind you of your true purpose. I’m here to remind you you’re a solider and Heaven needs its soldier boy.”

“No, I don’t think it does. I don’t fight anymore. And I should be getting back,” said Castiel.

“What makes you think I’ll let you leave,” asked Naomi.

“I wasn’t asking,” said Castiel before taking flight.

He returned to the hospital; unsure how much time had passed. Dean was still holding his hand, though lax. He was sound asleep. The early morning light was filtering through the window. He must’ve been gone longer than he thought. How would he explain himself to Dean when he awoke?

“Heaven wants me to go back,” said Castiel.

“I thought you didn’t want to go back there.”

“I don’t.”

“So, don’t. Don’t go. Just — just stay,” said Dean, squeezing his hand. _Stay, stay with me._

If only it were that easy.

Or maybe, it was.

Suddenly, he was overcome with emotion and wept. Here he was, a fallen Angel who had rejected his true purpose and chose to serve a different master.

Dean slept for several more hours, and Castiel remained by his side throughout. He had been drawn to Heaven while there, but now that he was back on earth, he knew he wouldn’t leave. Watching Dean sleep brought him peace and tranquility and being in Heaven had only brought unease. He should’ve felt comforted. Comforted in the knowledge that he was a solider, that he had a purpose, and that God had chosen him.

It was disquieting. The first time he rebelled he had been afraid. Afraid what lay before him, unsure of the outcome. Then he had died. Every atom pulled apart.

He was a celestial being. He was light and intent and that luminous explosion was the end. There was blood and viscera scattered through the air, but it wasn’t the end. He was brought back, and this time, he was remade in God’s image and given a body. This was no longer a vessel. It was his body. Though there was no soul, it was his. And he took great pleasure in that. He had been on earth before, and he had been in a human body before, but he had never been in his body before.

It was a new day.

Though he and Dean parted friends, it would be a long time before they saw each other again.

Dean tested his patience. All lovers do. His resolve, especially in the face of uncertainty, brought him comfort. It eased him. Even if he didn’t know, he wouldn’t let that deter him. He would formulate a plan, and come hell or high water, he would see it through, to the bitter end.

Castiel was many things, and in this time, he was lost; adrift.

He should’ve sought Dean’s guidance. The hunter came to him for answers, but the angel learned a thing or two from him as well. He kept his distance and honored Sam’s wish for him. It never got any easier.

At long last, Crowley took pity on him.

“Feathers, you can’t keep coming back here,” he said.

“I know,” said Castiel as he watched Dean rake the leaves.

“But you keep doing it. What is this, the third time this week? It’s pathetic. Man up and tell him you need him, or, move on,” said Crowley.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, it’s all the same with you: duty-bound. Dean said he wanted the quiet life. You chose to respect his wish. Thus, paying a visit to ask for help fighting the Civil War raging would put a dent in your relationship. You’d be disrespecting his wishes and those of his brother. And I know you’re not going to do that,” said Crowley.

“No, I’m not going to ask him for help,” said Castiel.

He faced away from Crowley. This was a fruitless enterprise.

“Oh, I know. That makes this even more pathetic. You could’ve called, Cassie. We didn’t have to do this here.”

“You’re not in my contacts,” said Castiel, matter of fact.

Crowley laughed.

“You’re asking me for help in overthrowing the Archangel in charge because your boyfriend is playing house and you don’t even have me in your contacts. I’m hurt. Wounded, even,” said Crowley with mirth.

He could hear his breathing, slow and steady. He could feel his breath. Inhale, exhale. It had been a long time since they were this close. And he took great comfort in their closeness.

They had been this close once before; before the Fall. The night before it was all to end. It didn’t end, of course, but there was no way they could’ve known. And he wouldn’t trade that night for the world.

He could feel his heartbeat as if it were his own, thumping in his chest. He could feel the blood rushing through the ventricles. This was a new sensation, of course, like so many of his experiences on earth. This didn’t seem daunting, not the way falling and failing had been.

_We’ve been to hell and back, angel._

The machines were beeping and humming all around them. It was a quiet comfort, being in the room with Naomi had unnerved him. Watching Dean battle Leviathan, seeing him confront his brothers and all matter of supernatural beings taught him a thing or two about courage and the strength it took to face his fears. He could do that.

Dean woke up shortly after that. Sam would be back soon. They wouldn’t have much time before the nurses noticed he awoke.

“How are you?”

“I should be asking you that,” said Castiel.

“Well?”

“I’m fine,” said Castiel, and he meant it.

Seeing Dean awake flooded him with relief. These human emotions were strange. Too much, all at once, or nothing at all for long stretches. It was difficult to keep track of which emotions where a response to which stimuli.

Dean laughed. “Yeah, emotions are fickle mistresses,” he said confidently.

“How do you manage?”

“I drink,” said Dean.

Castiel looked at him apprehensively.

“Don’t lecture. Besides, I don’t recommend it. Last time you drank a whole liquor store,” said Dean.  
There was no need to recount the incident. It played in both their minds.

“But you ask me to drink with you quite often,” said Castiel.

He watched himself pour Dean a drink and Dean take a sip, never once breaking eye contact.

“I needed that drink, but more than that, I needed you.”

“I did, too.”

Dean kissed him. And for the first time, there was no looming threat. They weren’t clawing their way through Purgatory; they weren’t awaiting the end times. It left him breathless.

“Do that again.”

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://manicpixiedeangirl66.tumblr.com/).


End file.
